Chapter 5 Already Broken, Already Cursed
Already Broken, Already Cursed
The first thing River noticed when she walked out of the Hub, beside Nikhail’s hand, which was a steady, warming presence on her back, was the full moon. It shone brightly in the sky, surrounded by shimmering stars.
The second thing she noticed was the cold. White clouds puffed in front of her mouth, and the air was crisp. She drew her free arm around herself, grateful for the heavy, oversized plum sweater, black leggings, and knee-high boots she’d donned earlier.
Golden City glistened on the horizon, brilliant lights filling the night sky as the citizens of the capital city went about their evenings.
The faint sounds of life reached River’s ears.
A reminder that even though she felt as though her world had come to a screeching halt, the world had continued to turn.
People had gone about their days like normal, as if nothing had happened.
And for them, it hadn’t.
The next thing River noticed, the one that stole the breath from her lungs and had her eyes burning, was the black sedan parked at the curb.
It was a fair distance away, since the Hub was far back from the street, but there was no mistaking the vehicle or the familiar fae leaning against it.
Dressed in a navy sweater and jeans, he had one leg crossed in front of the other.
An ache started in River’s chest, and for a moment, she forgot about the emptiness inside her. She glanced at Nikhail. “I’m sorry, I have to…”
“Go,” he said encouragingly, giving her a light push on her back.
And she did.
River’s feet pounded the sidewalk. Her muscles ached after days of disuse, even with her rapid fae healing, but she didn’t care.
A mangled sob crawled up River’s throat as she approached the vehicle.
“Ryker.” Her brother’s name was little more than a mangled whisper, but his head snapped up at the sound.
He shoved his phone into his pocket. “River.”
Ryker strode towards her, his long legs eating up the distance between them. He opened his arms wide in invitation.
River didn’t hesitate.
With a loud cry, she threw herself into her brother’s embrace. He squeezed her tight, hugging her as he had hundreds of times before, and held her close.
“I am so sorry,” Ryker said, his voice cracking. “I came as soon as I got Mom’s call.”
As soon as he heard about their father’s death.
The reminder of their shared loss swirled around River, and here, in her brother’s arms, something else shattered inside her. How was it possible that there were still intact parts of her, waiting to be broken?
“Dad is dead,” she whispered against her brother’s chest. “He’s gone, and I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.”
There were so many things River would have said if she’d known she’d never get to speak to her father again.
She would’ve told him that she loved him.
She would’ve shared how much she appreciated those brief moments of lucidity, where they got to be together.
She would’ve made sure her father knew that every moment they shared would be cherished. That she would never forget him and that he would always be close to her heart.
There were a thousand things she would have said, but she never got the chance. And now, she never would. For the rest of her days, River would have to live with the knowledge that her father didn’t know the person she’d become. His version of her, the person she used to be, was from before.
Before he died.
Before he was stolen from her.
Before she was left struggling to navigate this world without him.
“I know,” Ryker said.
River thought she’d run out of tears earlier, when she’d been crying in Nikhail’s arms, but at her brother’s words, grief crashed into her. It was an enormous wave, and she was a sandy shore, helpless against it.
It didn’t matter that she was a doctor, and she knew death intimately. Grief didn’t have any rules, and River didn’t seem to know how to do anything except break. And so, for the second time that day, she did exactly that.
A wretched sob ripped out of her throat, and she collapsed into her brother’s arms. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Her chest ached. Her heart felt like it would never recover.
The emptiness in her soul burned, yet she was grateful for it, because it meant the manacles were keeping her curse at bay. She could break. She could scream and cry and let her grief free, but her curse was contained, and no one else would get hurt.
Ryker’s arms never wavered. He pressed his cheek against her hair, and it was damp.
He was crying.
River’s tears flowed even faster. She couldn’t remember the last time her brother had cried, nor could she remember the last time he’d broken in front of her. He’d always been a pillar of strength, even after the Incident.
But now, he was crying, and that made things so much worse. Because River wasn’t alone in her loss. She hadn’t just lost her father—Ryker had lost his, as well.
They really were alone.
And while River had been in the Hub, caught in the vast emptiness inside her, Ryker had been dealing with their mother, her grief, and the arrangements.
Oh, gods.
The arrangements.
There were things that had to be done when people died. Affairs to be tidied. People to notify. Funeral services to organize. So many steps to take, so many things to do, and River hadn’t been there. She hadn’t been present at all.
She’d failed Ryker in a time of need, all because of her curse.
The crushing emptiness was back, more cumbersome than ever. The city lights seemed dimmer. The moon’s luster, fainter. The stars, less brilliant.
Everything darkened, a reminder of how cursed River truly was.
More tears flowed down her cheeks. How was it possible that there was still liquid in her body? She wept for herself, but also for Ryker. For the things they could’ve done with their father if the Stillness hadn’t stolen him away. For the lives they could’ve lived.
River wept until she ran out of tears. Until the emptiness in her soul matched the one in her chest, where her magic should be. Until she was limp and heavy, and her brother’s arms were the only things holding her up.
Only then did Ryker pull back. He drew himself out of River’s hold long enough to pull up her sleeve. She didn’t stop him. Couldn’t, honestly.
A crease formed between Ryker’s brows, and a vein in his jaw pulsed.
“River.” There was a hardness in her brother’s voice that she rarely heard directed towards her. “Why are you wearing these?” He looked over her shoulder, as if remembering that Nikhail was there. “Why are these still on her?”
River’s heart sank, and silence descended. For the longest moment, no one spoke. The city sounds seemed quieter. Even the wind ceased blowing. It was as if the world was waiting to hear the response to Ryker’s question.
“I tried, Ryker,” Nikhail said, approaching them. “But the guards were pushing back, and then River said—”
“I need to keep them on.” River was surprised that her voice didn’t break, that she was able to stay strong despite the growing emptiness inside her. She met her brother’s gaze. “It’s not Nik’s fault, Ryker. Don’t blame him. I’m the one who refused to take them off.”
His lips thinned.
“Please, don’t make me take them off,” she repeated.
She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he asked her to remove the cuffs.
Ryker, for all his wonderfulness and all the ways he’d always looked after her, didn’t understand the extent of her curse or the power that ran through her veins. He couldn’t. Only someone who bore the weight of a curse such as hers could truly understand how difficult it was.
He shook his head slowly, his face grim. “I don’t like this, River.”
“I didn’t ask for nor do I need your approval,” she replied softly.
Ryker took a step back and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re wearing those like some kind of criminal who can’t control themselves.” He balled his fists. “It isn’t right.”
Wasn’t it?
She reached out and touched his arm. “Ryker,” she breathed. “I am a criminal.”
“No,” he protested.
“Yes.” This time, her voice was hard and unyielding. “Although no one died this time, that hasn’t always been the case.”
River would always be a murderer. Her soul would be forever stained by the lives she’d taken, and she would bear their weight throughout eternity.
It didn’t matter that she hadn’t served time for her crimes, nor did it matter that Ryker and their mother had covered up River’s involvement in the flood.
She would never forget what she’d done or the lives she’d cut short. Such was her burden.
Ryker must’ve seen that on her face because he didn’t push her further. Levelling a sigh that held the weight of the world, he dropped her sleeve, pulled her in for another hug, and held her close.
Because even now, even after being reminded of all the ways River was cursed and broken, he loved her.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before her brother shifted. He rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Thank you for staying with her,” Ryker said, the low rumble of his voice warming something deep inside River. “You’re a great friend.”
“Of course,” was Nikhail’s reply. River twisted out of Ryker’s grip, turning in time to see the air fae smile. “It was my honor,” he added.
And it was clear he meant it. Not only because Nikhail was Ryker’s best friend, but because he cared about her, too.
River should’ve been happy, being by her brother’s side. He’d looked after her all these years, and he was the closest family she had left.
But she wasn’t. That became increasingly clear when Nikhail mentioned that he was going to take a cab to Atlas’s house, where he planned to stay for the next few days. Clouds descended further over River.
That didn’t make any sense. It was good for Nikhail to keep his distance. Even though he’d spoken those pretty words in the elevator, it would be better if he lived his own life, separate from her. He would be much safer.